The Big Question
by Ginger Alli
Summary: A short, goofy One-Shot: When Riche and Virgil discover earth-shattering information, Riche begins to doubt himself as a man.


An: This is a One-Shot. I think I'll stick to them because they're less stressful than a full chapter story.

Warnings: Pg-17 It's a story about curious kids... cough ahem. Yeah. A teensy bit of V/R Slash. I mean, it's like so small it's almost unnoticeable.

Disclaimer: I don't own Static. If I did, Richie would be my husband and love me for eternity...I'm so sad and lonely...

They sat together in Virgil's bedroom. The clock read 8:47 precisely. The over-sized, double speaker stereo pulsed with a heavy beat and thick, not-so friendly lyrics. Virgil sat cross-legged on his bed, digging through his back pack. Richie was stationed at his best friend's desk, nodding his head up and down to the rhythm while tinkering with the Shock Vox. A new circuit board here, connect a few wires...the blond boy shut the lid, finally complete.

"Check it out, V." He tossed a smaller, smarter version of their homemade walkie-talkies. "The Shock Vox--new and improved."

Virgil held his close to his face, examining it. "Really, cuz I can't tell the difference."

Richie scoffed playfully. "Well, I didn't change the appearance that much. But I boosted the receptors so they'll pick up weaker signals from greater distances. I can contact you from three states away!" The teenager all but squealed. Virgil just smiled, who was he to burst Richie's moment of rapture...?

Chuckling to himself, the African-American teen withdrew a magazine from his backpack. "Well, that's cool and all, bro, but check out what I swiped from Medusa's lair..." Virgil proudly tossed a _Cosmo-Girl _magazine on the desk.

Richie stared at the monthly for a moment before the words came out. "Uh...bro? As dumb as this question might sound...why do you have your sister's girly magazine?" Richie picked it up, holding it with his thumb and index finger as if it were a pair of dirty underwear. There was a picture of Beyoncé in a blue dress on the front along with short blurbs for promised beauty tips.

He shrugged, pulling it from Richie's hands to get a better look at it. "I dunno. Sharon's always reading these stupid things. I just wanted to see what was so interesting about 'em." He flipped to the first page and on the inside cover, Virgil began to read, "Hm. What Do Guys Think About Their Size? see page 12." Now the dusty, cob-web-covered conscience in the back of Virgil's brain told him his life would be a little better if he closed the magazine right then and there and never looked back. And he almost did...until Riche put forth his two cents.

"Hang on man, I wanna see that! Since when do chicks know how us guys think?" Riche snatched up the book, and flipped to page 12. Straightening his glasses once more he read aloud the text. "According to recent polls..." the blond super-hero stopped to snort, "many guys fear that their size may not be as impressive as they desire. When asked what an ideal length might be, many men replied at least eight and a half to nine inches. However in an interview with Dr. Price of Columbia University Human Research, she says, 'The average length of a full grown man is about six or seven.'" That wasn't the end of the article, but Richie stopped reading feeling a bit uneasy.

Running a hand through his dreads, Virgil laughed. "Wow! Can't believe girls actually read about that kind of stuff."

However, Richie stood there quiet for a moment before he finally asked. "Hey, V...what's your ideal size?"

The other boy on the bed couldn't help but glance down at his own crotch for just a second. He thought, trying to come up with an answer that wouldn't sound too stupid and still maintain his masculinity at the same time. "Well, I kinda like the size I am already. I'm still a growing boy so I might be even bigger by the time I'm full grown." Richie had a look on his face that said that wasn't exactly the answer he wanted, but he didn't respond. "What's your ideal size, Rich?"

It was the blonde's turn to ponder. "...Nah, it's not all that important...."

"Aw come on, bro. I told you what was on my mind..." Virgil sat up on his bed look at his best friend intently. Rosy blush filtered onto Richard's face and nervously, his fingers began to fiddle with his earring. He sighed. "Rich! It's no big deal. Just some girls fantasizing about guys in the dumbest way possible."

"I, well, I was kinda riding on that eight inch thing too." Richie froze. "No! Wait! I didn't mean it like that!" He stammered, waving his hands wildly in front of his face. "What I meant to say was, I thought eight **_was_** the average."

Something fuzzy bubbled inside Virgil's gut. It grew, and grew until finally the black super hero erupted into laughter. Richie frowned as his best friend turned on his side, holding his stomach as if his guts were going to spill. "Man, Richie...Ha-ha! You're a trip." Seeing that his mirth wasn't helping the situation, Virgil sighed and sat back up, pulling his best friend to sit next to him. "Take it easy; you're blowing this whole thing way outta proportion--"

"Virgil how big are you?" Richie practically gasped.

The other teen paused, a bit stunned. Not exactly a question one guy was supposed to ask another. But if Richie really wanted to know... His voice was quiet as he answered, fearing that someone might hear him, even though they were home alone. "Um, about seven and a half...give or take. At full mast anyway..."

Richie half smirked, half sighed in defeat. "I figured as much." The CD started to play a slower, R&B tune with a smooth bass. "I'm just barely at six. I thought I was still growing too, but after reading Dr. Dick in there, I guess my dreams are smashed." He poured.

Feeling another laughing fit about to strike, Virgil clamped down on his tongue. "Huh, you mean, it's been a dream of yours to have a big dick?"

Richie's dark eyebrows melted together in frustration. "Well, no...Yes...sort of. I don't know. It's not one of my dreams. But I just don't want to be small, ya know?" A friendly arm was slung over his shoulder.

"No guy wants to be small. That's a given. But if six or seven is the average, then it's not small. Right?" Virgil picked up the article and continued reading. "Look here, Rich. It says, 'All guys are different. And while six might be the average, larger sizes are more common.'" He snapped the magazine shut. "You're only sixteen right now buddy. Plus, we're both bang babies. We might have ten-foot mutant dicks by the time we're full grown." This time they both laughed.

"Guess your right man."

Virgil huffed smugly, "Hell yeah I'm right. More right than that chick-magazine. The only real experts on penises are the ones who got 'em." They tapped fists on the knuckles and sat together, quiet. The clock read 9:30. "Hey, Rich...this conversation never happened."

"Gotcha. And no more reading Sharon's magazines."

"Amen to that," Virgil nodded. And they left to raid the fridge.

AN: Eh, I was bored. I figured, insecure sixteen Richie would be fun to play with.


End file.
